Want
by AgentVick
Summary: "It's a word I have become vaguely familiar with over the past two years."--SD-1 June Challenge, R/R


-This is for the SD-1 June Challenge. It is my first challenge fic, so be nice : )  
  
-Only this part will go to the challenge, but I want to continue it. That is, if you guys want me to. So drop me a line after reading it and let me know what you thought.  
  
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Want  
  
It's a word I have become vaguely familiar with over the past two years.  
  
Want is a greedy word; I know that as well as the next guy. It implies selfishness and ungratefulness and a whole bunch of other -nesses. Yet somehow that doesn't stop me from feeling it. Or anyone else, for that matter.  
  
I want to know that the woman I love is safe.  
  
I want to know where she is every minute of every day. I want to know when she is at work, when she is at the mall, when she is having lunch with her best friend. And when I don't know, I want to call her cell phone and ask her. And I want to go to sleep at night knowing that she is sleeping right next to me in my bed, not in some second rate hotel halfway across the world.  
  
I want to tell the woman I love that I love her.  
  
I want to buy her flowers and chocolate and picture frames without being questioned. I want to walk down the street with her hand in mine so people can see just how much it is that I love her. And when her world falls apart, I want to comfort her without fearing for my life. I want to call her up in the middle of work just to remind her that I love her, and ask to meet her at lunch so I can look her straight in the eye when she recaps her day.  
  
I want to buy a ring for the woman I love.  
  
I want to find the perfect stone, and imagine how beautiful it will look on her finger. I want the thrill that comes nervous jitters when I feel the small box in my pocket the whole way to the restaurant. I want to see her smile and know the answer is going to be yes. I want to get down on one knee and watch as the tears being to slide down her soft cheeks. And I want those tears to fall because she is happy, not because she fears for her life.  
  
I want to buy a house with the woman I love.  
  
I want to call up the real estate agent and tell her we are looking for a small home, one suitable for a young couple yet big enough for a third. I want to drive to a thousand different neighborhoods looking for a house that would make the perfect home. I want to see her face light up when she sees the one that matches her dreams. And I want to do all of this directly through the real estate agent, no back channels involved.  
  
I want to raise kids with the woman I love.  
  
I want to paint a room yellow, because we both want to keep the gender a secret, and, well, yellow is neutral. I want to watch as my chestnut- haired, chocolate-eyed daughter slowly becomes the spitting image of her mother. I want to buy my son his first hockey stick and teach him to play on the weekends. And I want these kids to have my last name, not one created in the last minutes before we are shipped off to some small town in New England.  
  
Normally, these are reachable goals for a guy like me. I have a decent job, I make a respectable salary, and I'm not too horrible looking. And I tried finding these things with someone already, I swear to you I did. She was a nice girl, nice-looking, nice-family, nice-career. And I even started to think I might just love her. But that was a lie.  
  
I do not want to know that a nice girl is safe.  
  
I do not want to tell a nice girl I love her.  
  
I do not want to buy a ring for a nice girl.  
  
I do not want to buy a house with a nice girl.  
  
I do not want to raise kids with a nice girl.  
  
I want to do these things with the woman I love. There is just one problem with this way of thinking.  
  
The woman I love is Sydney Bristow.  
  
Now, a week ago, you may have felt sorry for me. Hell, you should have felt sorry for me. Why? Because all of the previous excuses were still valid. Sydney Bristow was still an unattainable double agent. But last week all of that changed.  
  
Last week, Sloane went missing. Last week, we found a 47th server. Last week, Sydney nearly died on a plane getting the codes from that 47th server. And last week the Alliance fell.  
  
I had it all planned out in my head. I was going to kiss her, right there in the middle of the wreckage. And if I didn't kiss her, I could have at least given her a hug. And if I didn't get that far, I could have at least told her how I felt.  
  
But noooo, instead I went and froze. Yes, that's right, I, Michael Vaughn, froze on what was quite possibly the most important moment of my life.  
  
I had been watching her, watching her ask someone about her father, watching her talk to Dixon, watching her survey the destruction. And then I was watching her watch me. That's when it happened. I didn't kiss her, I didn't hug her, I didn't tell her how I felt. I smiled and walked away.  
  
What happened? I would tell you if I knew. But I don't. I have no idea what happened.  
  
Weiss seems to know. He calls it the Say Anything syndrome. Something about a line in a movie, "She's gone. She gave me a pen. I gave her my heart, she gave me a pen." His logic behind this is that I feared she wouldn't return my feelings. I could tell my self that, but I know it's a load of crap. Sydney risked her life for mine more times than I care to remember, and nearly got her self killed to go on a date with me. I know that there is something there. So no, it is not the Say Anything syndrome.  
  
Last week my mother went to a wedding. One of her friends from church had a daughter that got engaged to some doctor last year. And of course, she called me to remind me how old I am getting. I wanted to tell her that I found the one, that she would have grand children within the next few years. But I'm an ass, so I couldn't.  
  
And it wasn't even like that was my last chance. Oh, no, I have had plenty of other chances to kiss her, or hug her, or tell her how I feel. For some odd reason, she sill works at the Joint Task Force. I see her at the office and in debrief, and we occasionally have lunch together. Today we even planned to order Chinese and eat it over at the park. I would like to tell myself that I will make something happen today at the park, but I won't because it's a lie. Because somehow, I always freeze.  
  
I always tell my self that I am going to do it the next time I see her.  
  
I want to kiss her.  
  
I want to hug her.  
  
I want to tell her how I feel.  
  
But then I see her, and every thought I had before that very moment seems to leave my head. I don't know why it happens, or how it happens, but it just does.  
  
And to make matters worse, every time we part, she has this look in her eyes. This look that just screams disappointment. I can't stand that look. It makes me feel guilty. I don't want to feel guilty, I want to have the guts to kiss her or hug her or tell her how I feel. But for some unknown reason, I just can't.  
  
So that explains why I am sitting here at my steel black desk ignoring the stack of papers in front of me and watching Sydney poor over hers.  
  
I should be calling her to make sure she's safe.  
  
I should be reminding her I love her.  
  
I should be shopping for a ring.  
  
I should be looking up house listings in LA.  
  
I should be leaving work early to pick up our kids.  
  
Yet somehow I'm not  
  
I want to be.  
  
But I guess I want a lot of things. And want is a greedy word. 


End file.
